


If Not One, Then the Other

by WhatLocked



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 5+1, Accidental Voyeurism, Boys going at it, Greg is fed up, John is mortified, M/M, Sherlock couldn't care less, Tiny hint at Mystrade, because i love it, sex in public places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 17:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatLocked/pseuds/WhatLocked
Summary: Poor Greg keeps on walking in on John having his delightful way with Sherlock.  Then he walks in on Sherlock having his delightful way with John.Another 5+1 because I really do love them and don’t write them enough.





	If Not One, Then the Other

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I am on fire. A fic last night, and one tonight. I am on a role. 
> 
> Actually, that is a lie. I am just suffering from a serious case of writers block for the other fics I am working on - all of them are open in several word documents on my computer and all mid-chapter - and I keep coming up with these little pieces instead.  
> I mean, I could be doing house work, but then I realise how utterly unappealing that idea is and then more of these get written.
> 
> As for this piece, I really enjoyed writing Gregs point of view in my last fic, so I decided to write it again. He may hate me for it, as he sees way too much of Sherlock and John, but this time, I threw in a tiny hint of Mystrade, so hopefully that will make him feel better about it all.
> 
> NTW  
> PS: Not sure how I'm getting these fancy headings, but they sure look swanky! :D

~~~~~~~~~~

#  **\- 5:** _It Pays to Knock_

Greg should know by now to always expect the unexpected when it came to Sherlock Holmes, but that still didn’t prepare him for walking into 221B Baker Street and seeing a stark naked Sherlock bent over his chair with an equally as naked John pounding into him from behind.  

As soon as Greg pushed the door open, both men stopped and looked up at their intruder.  The look on John’s face was a look of pure horror.  Sherlock just looked annoyed.

“Text me the details, I’ll be there when we’ve finished.  Shut the door on your way out” he managed to pant out, yet still sounding all high and mighty.

“Sure thing” Greg said, not sure what else to say and then turned around and left, making sure the door was firmly shut behind him.

Well, that answered those questions.  Yes, the two of them were shagging, and yes, John Watson topped.

Damn, he owed Sally 50 quid.  He was certain Sherlock would have been a top and a bloody bossy one at that too.

 

#  **\- 4:** _Next Time, Listen_

“You don’t want to go in there” Molly said as Greg went to push the doors to the morgue open.  He glanced over at her and took in the timid way she held herself and the fierce blush that was on her cheeks.

He was about to ask why when a loud shout came from the other side of the doors.  A very familiar shout.

Greg pointed to the doors, silently questioning.

“John got home” she said.

“Ah” was all Greg could reply.  Clearly, there was a domestic going on inside the morgue and Greg knew this was going to happen because he also knew that, in the three days that John was away, Sherlock set the upstairs bed - John’s bed - on fire.  He had claimed it was so John wouldn’t have anywhere else to sleep, other than Sherlock’s bed, no matter how angry he was at Sherlock.  Greg didn’t think Sherlock appreciated how much John could tolerate an uncomfortable surface.  

It didn’t matter though.  Greg needed to get Sherlocks observations on the body that had been brought in late last night. They could finish their argument later.  

“No, really…” Molly started, but Greg didn’t listen, and oh, how he wished he had.

“Really guys?  In here?” Greg let out in an exasperated tone as he took in John, sitting on a stool, his back against the supply cupboard, While Sherlock, pants hanging off one ankle, was riding him.  “There are dead bodies in here!”

Again, John looked mortified.  “I thought you said the door was locked?”

Sherlock shrugged.  “The report is on Molly’s desk. Make sure the door shuts when you leave” he said to Greg, and turned back to John.  

Greg didn’t wait for them to continue, he quickly backed out of the room, letting the doors swing shut behind him.

“I did try to warn you” Molly said quietly.

 

#  **\- 3:** _Late Night Shift_

Greg held the donut in his mouth, the coffee in his left hand and the Felding report tucked under his arm.  In his right hand he managed to hold the slightly thinner Finnegan report and turn the handle, opening his office door.

“For Fucks sake” he cried, his donut dropping to the floor.  “Will you two get a fucking room.”

“You said he was finished for the night” John panted, glaring down at Sherlock, who was sprawled on his back on Gregs desk, John was positioned between his legs, which were wrapped tightly around Johns waist.

Sherlock tipped his head back so he could give Greg that look he got when he thought people were being purposely obtuse.  “Felding is innocent, it was his wife and Finnegan hid the evidence in his neighbours chimney.  Shut the door and enjoy the rest of your evening, Lestrade.”

“Fucking, I want that desk scrubbed clean” Lestrade grumbled, knowing there was no use in trying to herd them out.  The way Sherlock had clenched his legs around Johns waist was proof of that.

Lestrade walked past the empty office cubicles towards the elevator, making sure he left the door open.  One final up yours to Sherlock Holmes before he went home.

He wished he hadn’t.  The last thing he heard, before the lift doors shut, was Sherlock groaning out, “ _Harder, John_!”

 

#  **\- 2:** _The Perks of '_ Private _' Health Care_

Un- _fucking_ -believable.

John was grinning and giggling as he held two handfuls of Sherlocks arse in his hands.  Meanwhile, Sherlock had his own hands braced on Johns knees and was happily bouncing away as sweat formed on his forehead.

“Hey, Greg” John slurred happily and giggled again.  Sherlock wasn’t so cheerful.

“We only have twelve minutes until Johns nurse comes back to take another set of obs.  Leave the bag on the chair, thank you” Sherlock grunted, as he arched his back.

Greg muttered a few curse words and, deciding he didn’t want to go any further in the room, threw the small carry bag that had a spare shirt for each of them in it, onto the chair from the doorway.

“And Lestrade” Sherlock called out.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  Shut the door” and Greg turned around and marched out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Jesus, he had thought that with John on morphine while recovering from a stab wound, he’d be safe from all that.  Clearly he was wrong.

 

#  **\- 1:** _A Stroll In the Park_

Greg was pleasantly Surprised to see Mycroft Holmes, while he was out walking his dog.

He was also pleasantly surprised that Mycroft seemed pleasantly surprised to see him also.

What surprised him even more was the way that Mycroft was instantly taken with Darcy, Greg’s great dane.

What he wasn’t surprised about was the way Darcy dropped and rolled as soon as Mycroft touched her head, hoping for a belly rub.  She really was a rubbish guard dog.

After walking for an hour or so with Mycroft, Greg decided that since it was dark and there was practically no one around, he would let Darcy off of her leash.  As it turns out, it wasn’t his best idea.  As soon as the stupid mut got a whiff of squirrel, she was off, Greg chasing after her, calling her back.

He ran to a tree, where Darcy seemed to be growling playfully, but unfortunately she wasn’t alone.  Fortunately, Greg knew the voice that was talking.  

“ _God_ , John, rough bark, sensitive skin, remember!”

Greg muttered under his breath.  He had a feeling he knew what was behind that tree.

“Yeah well, I’ve got some bloody dog about to bite my arse off, you tit.”

“It’s not going to bite you, that is clearly a playful growl.”

“Yeah, well, not exactly in a position to play with a fucking dog, am I Sherlock.”

Greg rounded the tree, to see a happy Darcy wagging her tail with her nose pushed against the bare bum of John Watson.

“Oh, Lestrade.  I thought I recognised the dog” Came Sherlock’s voice, completely unfazed that he was caught without his pants, pushed up against a tree with his legs wrapped around John Watson’s waist.

“Seriously, you two.  This park isn’t even near your flat.”

“We are shagging our way across London” Sherlock supplied at the same time John yelled “Can you please get your dog away from my arse.”

Greg called Darcy back at the same time he could hear footsteps approaching.

“Oh, good lord” came the unimpressed voice of Mycroft Holmes.

“Ah, Mycroft” Sherlock said, rather amiably considering not only their usual relationship, but also his current position. “Enjoying an evening stroll.  This isn’t your usual neighbourhood, is it?” And there was the usual childish bantering.  

“You do know I can arrest you two.  Having sex in a public place is illegal” Greg snapped, ignoring Sherlock.

John sighed, dropping his head against Sherlocks shoulder in resignation.  Sherlock just glared at Greg.  “As is letting one’s dog run loose, in a public area, when there are multiple signs stating that dogs must be kept on a leash at all times.”

“I’m going” Mycroft muttered, turning and leaving at the same time John practically sobbed “Can we please discuss this at another time?”

“Yes, preferably when I’m not on the verge of…”

“Alright, alright” Greg said, cutting Sherlock off and tugging on Darcy’s collar.  “We’re leaving, just, keep it private from now on, boys, alright.”

He left to the sound of John saying “Yes, Lestrade” and Sherlock calling out “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

Greg sighed, and clipped Darcy’s leash back on, hoping he could still catch up to Mycroft.

 

#  **\+ 1:** _When Not on Holiday_

Greg put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it.  One day he would stop smoking for good, but that would have to wait until Sherlock stopped being an utter pain in the arse.

Greg was supposed to be on holiday.  He had somehow managed to accumulate two glorious weeks off and was going to go spend it along the lower coast, hopefully getting in some fishing.

But then Mycroft had rung him from Korea.  Sherlock had been arrested.  On a case.  In Hexham, Northumberland.

So here Greg was, at the wrong end of the country and playing peace negotiator between Sherlock and the Hexham constabulary while Sherlock tried to solve a case for a private client, and not a single fishing rod to be seen.

He rounded the edge of the hotel, the idea that he would go sit on the edge of the pool and soak his feet.  He knew that the pool was closed for the evening, seeing as it was past midnight, but he also noted that the owners didn’t actually lock the gate.

Today had been a non-stop fuck around, but the case was solved, finally and while the air conditioning in his room was a blessed relief from the unusual hot temperatures, he couldn’t bare laying there and listening to Sherlock and John go at it, when they finally got around to it, because they would. Get around to it that was.  

Greg slowly made his way to the pool, taking his time walking and drawing on the smoke in his mouth.  It was late, mid-week and he was in a small town.  The noises that surrounded him in London were absent, which made the sound of water, sloshing against the side of the pool, even more noticeable in the still night.  Shortly followed was a low moan.

Greg couldn’t believe his fucking luck.  What he had come out to avoid was the exact thing he had found.  Looking up he could just make out, thanks to the full moon and clear summer sky, John’s head and shoulders, leaning over the edge of the pool, his head resting on his arms.  Behind him, Sherlock was slowly moving, his face buried in Johns neck, the water lapping in time with his slow, gentle thrusts into Johns body.  The whole act was the complete opposite to what he had walked on previously and it seemed that now, it was more of an intrusion that he be there.  

Greg turned and, flicking his unfinished cigarette into a nearby pot plant, he made his way back to his room to enjoy the airconditioning and the absent sound of Sherlock and John having sex.

**Author's Note:**

> As Requested, there is now a companion to this piece with John and Sherlock walking in on Mycroft and Gregory. You can find it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14009235).


End file.
